


Small Hours

by Bazylia_de_Grean



Series: The Man Who Waits [4]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Gen, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 20:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazylia_de_Grean/pseuds/Bazylia_de_Grean
Summary: Thaos finds an unlikely friend.





	Small Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Filigranka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filigranka/gifts).



> It has Thaos and *pets*, so I hope you'll like it! :D
> 
> (Thanks to Ranna for beta-reading!)

The wurm thrashes and squeals in protest as the temple acolyte takes it. Thaos clucks his tongue and the animal calms down, but its wide eyes are still focused on him as it gives a small whine.

“Your Eminence, maybe...” the acolyte begins, hesitant.

“It will get used to the change,” he interrupts calmly. “As must we all.”

“Just a day or two, Eminence?” The acolyte suggests. “It’s still a baby and...”

Thaos sighs, but picks the wurm up. It gives a contented squeak and immediately tries to burrow into his robe.

“...and it probably thinks you are its mother.”

* * *

 

There are no animals considered holy by Woedicans, but the Queen’s clergy favours drakes. It seems... fitting.

Thaos has not been to Sun in Shadow in two lifetimes. He knows from the reports there are numerous drakes guarding the temple’s secrets now.

He follows the acolytes into the rookery. Upon entering, they are greeted by a cacophony of squeals, growls and flapping wings.

An old drake, lying on a tattered, rune-embroidered robe, slowly lifts its head. Suddenly, it is up, leaping around like a wurm.

Thaos scratches its head. “It’s been a while, little one, hasn’t it?”

The drake purrs.

* * *

 

His laboured breaths are the only sound in the dark chamber. Not that he needs light; he knows the way. After the draining journey, he finds peace inside those cold walls, at his Queen’s feet.

Shadows churn as a ghostly adra lamp flickers to life. Soft clank of bones follows. The drake trots up, flapping its wings and wagging its tail. As Thaos slumps to the ground, it nuzzles his cheek.

“Not long now, old friend.” He smiles wearily, reaching out with a hand and a thought to pat the drake’s insubstantial head. “You will have a new pillow soon.”


End file.
